Every Story Is a Love Story
by Kireina-Ame
Summary: A collection of one-shots that will mostly center around the love between Ichigo and Rukia. Third installment added, "To Be Missed" as a continuation of the "Broken Goodbye" and "Found" chapters.
1. A Broken Goodbye

**Author's Notes:** Welcome to my first installment of where my Bleach one-shots will go! Sometimes I have short, one-chapter stories that can stand on their own and sometimes I don't. And those will go here! They will mostly be IchiRuki (as is my way) but I may surprise people and throw in some other characters from time to time. We shall see. Mostly I had this inspiration that I just had to get rid of or go crazy. I do apologize that this first one is sad... _If I did a decent job of writing it, I must warn you to get some tissues. _And if I get enough responses to this, I may do a sequel to this specific one-shot.

Also, unless specifically noted there is no specific timeline for the one-shots. It's up to your imagination. I most likely won't be doing much, if any, AU stuff and it'll just be snippets pulled from canon or 'alternate endings' of such. Anyway, don't think to hard on it. I just hope you enjoy!

* * *

**A Broken Goodbye**

* * *

Everyone silently gathered around the dying hero, watching him struggle for breath even through unconsciousness. The grief and mourning was thick over the crowd, despite the victory against the universe's almost certain destruction. The young man, clad in torn and bloodied robes marking him as a shinigami, was fading fast. He had sacrificed everything to save his friends, the balance between the worlds, the entire universe's existence. He was a hero in triumph. But he was dying there on the ground. And there was nothing they could do. No amount of healing kido or rejection powers could undo the hole that was made in his soul.

Soundless tears spilled down cheeks, some eyes cast themselves away from the sight, and some bowed their heads in thanks, in apology, in reverence. There was the sound, somewhere in the background, of shifting rocks after the damaging battle. Fires were slowly flagging that damaging spells had caused. And even the early morning birds began to leave the safety of their nests. But still no one moved. No one made a sound. The young hero that no one had ever expected… was dying.

"Ichigo! _Ichigo!_" Breaking into the eerie stillness of the air, a young woman broke through the crowd. She pushed aside bodies in the way to find where her companion, her dear friend, lay on the hard ground. "No," she whispered, her dark eyes wide in disbelief and fear, unshed tears glistening on the surface.

"Rukia." A whisper. Before her childhood friend could take hold of her arm, she dashed forward, completely unconcerned about the audience, the rubble, or the pain in her own injuries. No one stopped her. No one had the heart.

The team of mortal friends hurried behind her and found themselves gripped in pained shock when they exited the crowd. There was a feminine choked gasp and a whispered 'Ichigo' from somewhere in the throng. But they didn't rush toward him, not yet.

"_NO!_" Dropping to her knees, her tired bones aching at the pressure against the hardened earth, she pulled the man's head gently into her lap. "Ichigo… No…" She whispered against his dirty orange hair. Holding his head in one arm in veneration, the other placed itself over the massive wound in his chest. Everything was taken from him. His chain of fate, soul sleep, even his heart… All pierced, all gone. It was a wonder his soul's body hadn't given away to mere reishi already. But then, he had always been strong.

'_Sode no Shirayuki_…' the young woman cried in her mind, pleading with the part of her soul she had once given to the very being dying in her arms.

**'**_**Hai, Rukia… Hai.**_**'** came the whispered response. Her zanpakuto was also grieving.

Her request was accepted. Her soul companion has never let her down yet. She weakly smiled through her tears and closed her eyes. _'Arigatou.'_

Rukia's bent form became to sparkle, giving off an almost flirting glow. A soft luminescence overtook the reiastu surrounding her while her skin itself began to reflect light like tiny crystals. All eyes were glued on the pair of shinigami huddled on the ground and none of them quite understood. The silence now was full of wonder, sympathy, and even hope. The air around the entire crowd began to cool down and breeze gently, as if blowing from the young soul herself. Sand and small debris blew back away from the two as if creating a holy space.

In the moments just before the sun began to rise over the horizon, a soft white light covered the noble girl's back. Swirling pecks of reflective crystals began to swirl, slowly forming together, and creating a brilliant light before dawn in this place that was just recently filled with pain and violence. It was almost soothing, nurturing, calming. And then the miniscule crystals began to form into the shape of wings, flowing upward in a glorious arc before descending down to the ground. The span was much wider than the girl's arms and the tips of the white, lacey wings lay on the cracked earth beneath, the clash of the divine and dirty.

Amongst the onlookers, a man stepped forward, pushing away from the rest. His eyes were unusually wide and emotional. "Rukia… Don't…" He whispered, barely spoken at all. Though none around him could hear his words, they knew from his expression that he was afraid, that he somehow knew what was happening. But he moved no further to impede her. This was her will and it was an honorable one. There were no doubts in his eyes that she was the epitome of a dutiful shinigami, one that feared not death, entertained no consolation, and declined no challenge. She was the embodiment of nobility. A heart that gave with no expectation of return and wavered not from the righteous path. She was the quintessence of true affection and care for another, no matter the cost. And he was honored to call her his little sister.

As the wings completed their formation and the sun began to peak through the trees behind them, the illusion began to change again. Slowly, the wings lowered to the ground, the crystal-like feathers drug against the dirt as they wrapped protectively around the dying man. Bit by bit, particles of the sparkling crystals began to fall. The wings were slowly disintegrating, creating a mist over the body and setting light to the dark shadows of the destroyed black uniform. Some of the small specks of light whirled around the pair as others lost direction and flew into the crowd along the gentle breeze.

There was a soft whisper of awe as a young woman with long strawberry blonde hair touched one that floated to her. "Snow," she whispered lightly, just enough for everyone to hear. "It's snow." And Inoue felt her face relax for a moment under the intense grief she had been feeling. It somehow soothed some of the pain and she let it carry it away.

Little by little, the white, delicate wings withered down to small protrusions from Rukia's back. Flakes of crystalline snow still littered Ichigo's fading form and danced in the air about them. The young soul took a shaky breath, her energy leaving her quickly. But she was not done yet. She still had one more thing to do. Then softly leaning down toward her friend, her hero, she pressed her forehead to his. She could hear his labored breathing, a gurgling sound from his lungs filled his attempts at air, and his eyes were shut tight against the agony. She could smell his skin still though, even through the dirt and blood. And she could still feel the weight of his body in her lap.

Finally, she whispered softly so only he could hear. "Thank you. Thank you for everything." She let another tear roll down her cheek, unable to stop it as it crystallized against her skin into another flake of fluffy crystal. She pressed her cheek against his hair, her lips half-pressed to his forehead, and opened her mouth again to whisper as she felt herself draining.

* * *

Through the darkness and the anguish, Ichigo's mind began to rouse. He was aware that he was in a great deal of pain and only on the edge of consciousness. It was hard to breath and he couldn't move. And yet, something felt safe. He felt that he would be ok. There was a soft, white light ahead of him. It was bright and glittering and he yearned to reach for it for reasons he couldn't fathom. But he knew it was everything he could ever want and everything he'd ever need.

"Thank you."

What was that? He could make out a voice. Someone was grieving. It was emotional pain he was well acquainted with. But who was it? And why were they sad? He wanted to tell them not to be sad anymore but his voice would not come.

"Thank you for everything."

Rukia. That was Rukia. Was she thanking him? Why could he hear tears in her voice? That was the last person he ever wanted to see cry again. Her pain tore through him and he wanted to fight away her darkness and wrap her in light. He just wanted to see her smile.

"I hope we meet again."

_'Where are you going?'_ he wanted to ask. He wasn't ready to say goodbye. The last time they parted, he felt a rip in his heart and he told himself that once he got her back that she'd never leave again. But it sounded like she was leaving again. He didn't want to wait until eternity started to be with her. He wanted to tell her all of this once the battle was over, once he won. She can't leave yet.

"This is goodbye."

_'No,'_ he wanted to beg her to stay, but his voice still wasn't cooperating. _'Rukia.'_ He could vaguely make out her beautiful face above his and he found himself wondering if it was all a dream. She was glowing, a dark ethereal beauty surrounded by sparkling white light. She was his personal angel. He could even tell himself that he felt her gentle hands holding him, a tingling sensation wrapped around his body, and could almost see small wings on her back. If he was dreaming, it was the most glorious dream. He could stay in this realm between wakefulness and sleep, life and death, if she stayed here with him like this.

"Ichigo."

His name whispered from her lips against his face felt so warm. This couldn't be a dream. She was really here, holding him, and soothing his soul into waking up like only she could. It felt beautiful. She looked beautiful. He wanted to tell her all this and more. He wanted to open his parched lips and whisper promises and oaths to her. He wanted to make sure she understood that wherever she went, he would follow. They would never be separated again and he would care for her for the rest of their days. He wanted to explain that he had a heart again because of her and, now, it was all hers. He wanted to say those words, those little terrifying words, that his heart had longed to say for so long.

"I love you."

But she said them first. He wanted to smile, to laugh, to cry, to hold her, to kiss her. Most importantly, he wanted to whisper them back. He felt his eyes open wider, taking in the scene that he now knew was not a dream. No, it was more than reality. It was a nightmare, all over again. His worst one since his mother's death.

She was disappearing again. There was a sad smile on her face and the remnants of tears down her cheeks as their eyes connected in the mist of sparkling lights.

"Rukia," his horse voice weakly pleaded. He wanted to scream, to cry, to beg her to stay. She couldn't leave him yet, not after everything that's happened. They had so much more to say, to do together. Why was she leaving again? Why was she disappearing?

But then as she leaned down, her eyes closing to try and stop her crying, and the last of her crystalline wings fell apart and around his body, he knew. He was feeling stronger, more whole. But she was disappearing. She was dying to give him life. She was doing it all over again.

"Rukia. No," he felt his own tears forming on his face as her body slummed forward, feather-light as her soul started to disintegrate as well. His own felt stronger as he sat up to hold her tenderly, afraid of squeezing too hard and having her disappear faster. "Don't leave me."

Her deep indigo eyes opened and she merely smiled at him in a way that said she regretted nothing, except maybe having longer to spend with him. She raised a weak hand and held it against his face, her fingers were cool to the touch. He placed his own warmer one on top of hers to keep it there as her face neared his and their lips touched.

And it was beautiful. She was soft and almost shy and he wanted to drink her in. It was their first and would be their last. He felt a tear slide down his cheek that he was unable to hold back. Opening his eyes once more, he saw her face starting to fade. "Rukia, I love you too."

And then she was gone. All that was left of her was the snow of her soul covering his healing body and the whispers she left in his head. He lost her. The one thing he couldn't stand to lose. The hero saved the world but lost his love. And he felt broken all over again.

Uncaring and unconcerned of his audience, the hero broke down and cried.


	2. Found

**Author's Note:** This is a one-shot sequel to "A Broken Goodbye". My inspiration had been lacking so I needed a one-shot to pick me back up. Enjoy this short piece until I'm able to finish the next chapter of OTS.

* * *

**Found**

* * *

Ichigo was pacing in the air above a small town in rural Japan. The spiritual pressure here was much less than his hometown of Karakura and he doubted he'd see any hollows for the rest of the day. He turned to watch the sun begin its descent to the tree line on the west side of the town and let out a breath. However, he wasn't here for hollows. He was hunting down something completely different this time.

The shinigami captain knew most either considered him loyal to a fault and commendable for his obsession, or just plain crazy. He figured it might have been somewhere between the two by this point. It had been long enough that most people learned to move on. They no longer carried the weighted pain in their hearts like he still did. No one forgot, of course. They merely learned to live around it. But he couldn't, and wouldn't, and he knew why.

Because he carried her heart.

Gripping onto the black fabric of his _kosode_, he gritted his teeth at the memory. It had been decades since he lost Rukia. No… That wasn't quite right. Since she sacrificed herself to save his soul. Long years totaling nearly a century at this point had passed. He could count down to the day if asked, but it was all the same. It was the time that shouldn't exist, not without her. It was long, too long. And it still burned fresh for him. Ichigo knew he would never let her go.

And that's what brought him to this quaint little town. Surrounded by farmland on one side and the sea on the other, it barely came to half the size of the Tokyo metropolis he spent his childhood in. Hollow attacks were few, the crime rate was incredibly low, and there was little that would bring tourists here. And yet, it was special.

So yes, he probably was crazy. But he swore that he felt her here. Just as Urahara said he might.

* * *

_Many years ago…_

Ichigo knew this place. So much of what he was, was built within these walls. He could count the floor boards, one for every memory. Gaining his shinigami powers, planning the rescue, fighting with his friends, the time spent healing. His visits here began as an occasional respite during what was left of his mortal life and then again when he became a full-fletched shinigami. He wasn't usually so sentimental. But it was one of the only places left that the memories were so alive and he visited often enough to replenish the images and sounds of friendship, happiness, and those first pangs of love.

This visit, however, was different than the rest. Urahara had news for him.

"Kurosaki-san, this is just a theory. But I-," Holding onto his green and white striped hat, Urahara attempted to ease the temper of the shinigami before him but found himself cut off once more.

"If there's any chance at all, I'm going to take it! Just tell me what to do!" The orange-haired man practically yelled into the face of his mentor. No matter how much time had passed, the easily riled teenager from Karakura turned full grown man and shinigami captain, he was still as zealous as ever.

"Hai, hai, I understand, Kurosaki-san. But could you start with… putting me down?" The shop-keeper straightened his robes and righted his hat once more. It may have been years since he was redeemed from past criminal charges but he still kept his home within the mortal world. After all, they hardly needed two captains of the 12th division within the Gotei 13. But mostly, it was that Urahara was just as susceptible to nostalgia as anyone else. He watched his adoptive children, Ururu and Jinta, grow up and have kids. He helped keep the spiritually-dense city of Karakura safe. He even hosted trips of shinigami students to the mortal realm for hollow hunting through classes at the academy.

But there was also something he wanted, needed, to do. After all, he never got to apologize to her. And his young student needed the stability only he could provide.

After smoothing down the front of his _kosode_, the blond man whipped out his fan. Whenever he was most excited was when he became the most animated. And though he would never downplay the memory of the dear shinigami woman his young friend sought, he was excited for the challenge.

"Now I had been thinking for a while," the man began and paced around the back of the shop. He pulled back a wooden door to reveal a whiteboard of scribbles, illegible ideas, and a small desk littered with papers. This was his thinking space. "About how this was different than the first time Rukia shared her powers with you. It stuck with me for years at how she managed to do such a thing. Even I had never seen that degree of… soul bonding before." After putting that space and furniture between himself and the angry former-substitute shinigami, he continued unfazed by the tight look on the other man's face. "She somehow used her own soul, not just her spiritual power, to heal your own soul. So when she disappeared before our eyes, some of her entered the normal spirit cycle of reincarnation. The rest, of course, stayed with you, Kurosaki-san. Now I need you to first understand that this is something I've never researched or tried before but-!"

Having been distracted by his own rambling, Urahara didn't have time to react to the flash step of his visitor. Before he knew it, the other man was worked up once again and within his personal space. "I don't care about all of your disclaimers, Geta-boshi! Just tell me what – hey!" Ichigo found himself nursing a small bruise in his sternum from the hard jab of the older man's fan.

"Please let me continue, Kurosaki-san. What I'm saying is that perhaps if we use the traces of spiritual pressure from Kuchiki-san still within yourself, we may be able to locate her soul." Flapping the fan in front of his face, he continued in a rush of nervousness, knowing how the other man felt about disclaimers and details. "Though tracking her will prove most difficult considering the small range you'll be able to do at one time… It could still be a possibility."

Hope entered the once dull amber eyes. He proved a bit of a prodigy when it came to tracking spiritual pressure within days of obtaining the power as a teenager. And if it was the spiritual pressure of someone he knew as much as he knew her and that he still carried, there had to be a way!

"However…" Urahara began again, this time in a much more somber tone. Placing his fan on the ledge of the whiteboard, he sat down on the floor on a cushion. Urahara invited Ichigo to join him before continuing, not wanting to give too much expectation to this theory without explaining the difficulties. Once his guest was seated across from him, he peered past his unruly blond hair with seriousness rarely used. "There is no predictability on _when_ her soul will reincarnate, _where_, or even on what side of the plain."

"What side? What do you mean?"

"Dimensional plain. Children are born every day in the mortal world, Kurosaki-san. However, there are still special cases of children being born within Soul Society as well. They are much rarer, as you by now understand, of course. But it's still a possibility."

"And… we wouldn't know when? There's no pattern? So we could be waiting for…?" Ichigo's head bowed a bit, daunted but not down.

"Days, months, years, lifetimes." Taking a deep sigh, Urahara leaned forward a bit. He wanted nothing more than to provide optimism, to provide a happy ending to the romantic and tragic tale that became Kuchiki Rukia. But… "Kurosaki-san, there is absolutely no telling when her soul will be ready to start again or if she will even be in a form you'll recognize. Very few souls remember anything of a past life even then. The most we may be able to hope for is the knowledge that she lives on. That's the truth of it." With a small nod in assurance and respected, he softly added, "But I promise I will do what I can."

With fists tightly clenched, Ichigo could only nod. What he was trying to say was that it may never happen. He may never see her again. She may not remember. Rukia, _his_ Rukia, may be forever gone.

* * *

So the waiting began.

That was over 60 years ago that Urahara had presented the possibility to him. He walked out of the shop within a few days with an updated hollow detector. This one-of-a-kind device that resembled a mortal cell phone was planted with the special ability to match spiritual pressure. Not just any spiritual pressure, of course. It was Rukia's spiritual pressure only that would activate that particular feature.

But after 60 years of visiting every location within Japan, and a few outside of Japan within the realm of Soul Society's jurisdiction, he never got even a flicker. Every few months he would go back to Urahara's place for an update to his device that the crafty man could come up with: longer range, different signals, ability to detect lesser amounts of energy, etc. Eventually, it just became habit to go visit the Urahara Shoten a few times a year. He would never waver from the visit, as the tiniest glimmer of hope refused to extinguish itself. But it was with less and less fervor that he would demand a new report of spiritual activity or to go over any other ideas. But it was draining that nothing ever happened.

_Nothing._

Until…

"Thanks for the tea," Ichigo muttered as he carefully lifted the steaming cup to his lips. He sipped the drink, barely noticing the flavor, and just let the heat relax his body. To say he was having a bad afterlife would be a lie. There weren't traitorous shinigami trying to destroy the world or old substitutes trying to kill him. He visited his family often and still had his friends. Work was satisfying and he had plenty of ways to release built up energy in training. But still…

"So, Kurosaki-san, I think there's this cute town you should visit while you're on holiday." Urahara tried making small talk while Ichigo merely tried to untie the stress and fatigue knotted in his bones. "There's been some activity…"

"Hollows?" Ichigo asked, only superficially listening.

"Why no, Kurosaki-san," his friend responded with amusement and began to wave that damned annoying fan again. When Ichigo realized he wasn't going to elaborate further, ambers looked up into grey and the world paused.

Did he mean…?

Ichigo stood up before he even realized that he had moved and nearly lost his balance. His mentor laughed at him and moved the cup of tea away from the edge of the low table to prevent anything from spilling before asking the man to sit back down.

"Urahara-san, are you saying that…? Did you really…? Is it…?"

"Now, I am not positive, Kurosaki-san. But I did receive a weak signal a few weeks ago and then the occasional flicker every couple of days since then. And they all came from that location. I think that alone warrants you to go scout a little closer, hm?" Urahara was certainly smiling behind his fan.

"Yes, of course. Yes! Get me the coordinates and then I'll-!" And he was standing up once again, eager to leave at once.

"Just remember, Kurosaki-san…"

He wasn't stupid. He remembered all of the disclaimers the crazy man made him listen to. Yes, she may not look the same. Yes, she may not remember him. There were so many things that _may_ have changed and he knew he couldn't ignore them. But he just needed to see her, to feel that same spiritual pressure. He needed to hold that chance tightly, no matter how small it was that maybe, just maybe...

After traveling some distance via flash step the entire way, Ichigo found himself pacing above that small town, waiting. Waiting. For what, he didn't know. Maybe he was waiting for the sun to go down. Maybe he was waiting for his hollow detector to go off with the signal that it recognized a trace of spiritual pressure. Maybe he was waiting to have the courage to descend closer and look.

Letting out an aggravated breath at himself, he slowly lowered toward the streets of the town. He wasn't going to see anything from all the way up there and there was no since in getting cold feet now. Closing in on what he assumed to be the center of the town, he watched the unhurried crowd. People were saying 'good night's and closing up shops. They were leaving to have dinner with their families or meet up with friends. It was peaceful and uneventful. This was a life that Rukia deserved. If she was really here, that is.

His nerves betrayed him as he nearly jumped out of his skin when his detector starting to beep. Clumsily fishing it out of his pocket, he muttered about hollows having horrible timing. His complaint was cut short when he noticed that it was something else going off. His detector was telling him that she was close.

_Rukia…_

Glancing at the location that the small screen was estimating the 'target' to be, _close_, he was once again caught off guard. If he weren't a spirit, he would have been bowled over by children running straight past him down the street. They couldn't have been more than 9 or 10 years old and they were giggling as they ran down the street from the small shop they just exited.

"You kids better get home soon! Mouri-san won't serve you dinner late, you know!" An older woman yelled in amusement to the gaggle of youth that ran past. She shook her head as she chuckled under her breath at the bunch as a disordered chorus of 'hai' was yelled back to her. "I don't know how Mouri-san hasn't gone all grey or had a heart attack from caring for so many kids, I tell ya."

Ichigo almost felt as if she were talking to him and nearly replied to her when his attention was captured once again by his detector. Those kids, or rather, one of those kids. That's what was setting his phone off. Did that mean…?

He followed the group as they headed down the street. Ichigo didn't want to get too close, in case any of them were so spiritually aware that they would see him, but he desperately wanted a closer look. Thankfully, the kids slowed down to a leisurely walk as they left the denser part of the town and headed west toward the farming area. He flash-stepped ahead of them and waited in a relatively hidden area just off the road to get a closer look. The first thing he noticed was that all of these children couldn't possibly be related. The second was that, they were all in need of a bath. Their practical clothing was either covered in dirt, flour, or soggy below the knees. There weren't graphic designs on t-shirts, brand name shoes, or a flowery dress in the bunch.

"How much did you earn today, Touma?"

"About three-hundred yen! Isn't that great?"

"Actually, that's not."

The kids giggled as the boy complained that they were all ungrateful for his work. He seemed to be the youngest, or at least the smallest, of the bunch. His messy dark brown hair fell about his ears and eyes, indicating a great need of a haircut and also of unlimited energy. His large eyes glared at his comrades as he stuffed the money back into his pocket.

"I think you did fine, Touma." A slightly older girl appeased him, her light colored hair curled in messy spirals at her shoulders and her smile gave her a warm appearance.

"He just better be happy that he's the baby considering he brings in less than the rest of us." Another boy grumbled, his hands placed behind his head of spikey dark hair.

"Jirou, don't be mean to him." The motherly girl pleaded softly, putting a hand on Touma's arm.

"Don't worry, Rei. He's just sour about having to drag a whole load of fertilizer out to the Yagyu farm today." Another boy laughed, his demeanor much more light-hearted than Jirou's, though his appearance being very similar excepting the slightly longer hair. Jirou just harrumphed and looked away from the group at that.

"What about you, Ichirou?" Rei asked sweetly.

Said boy shrugged and pulled out his daily wages from a jeans pocket. "About two-thousand yen today. Mouri-san will be able to get a lot this week, don't you think?" Rei nodded in merry agreement and Touma immediately laughed in accomplishment, his spirits raised.

"What did you get today, Mizuki? Hey, Mizuki!"

The fifth of the group finally turned to them, having ignored the extent of their conversation up to that point in preference to scanning the area and looking behind them at the part of town they just left. She turned her head to her friends and blinked at them, her black hair pulled back into a ponytail that had obviously gotten messed up during the day. "What?"

Jirou sighed and rolled his eyes at her. "What is it now, Mizuki? You being crazy again?"

"I'm not crazy!" She protested angrily, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, ya are. There's nothing out here, ok? Let's just go home." Jirou huffed and turned to head toward the darker end of the road, not even pausing to wait for the others to catch up. Ichigo guessed they lived out in the farming part of the community and couldn't help be concerned for five very young kids walking all this way alone when night was near. But his concern was soon overshadowed with a flurry of other emotions.

"I am not!" The girl looked like she was considering yelling something else at him but changed her mind and glared at his retreating back. "I am not… I swear I feel something, _someone_, here with us."

Touma ran over to her and grabbed her arm. "It isn't a bad one, is it?"

Mizuki shrugged and scanned the area again with discerning eyes. Ichigo ducked, feeling as though she were looking for him, his heart racing at the thought of being found. His adrenaline pumping at the thought that this spiritually sensitive child could possibly be…

"No, I don't think it's bad. But we should get home anyway." She ushered the small boy to walk ahead of her and she brought up the rear of the pack. Stealing one last glance behind her, Ichigo could have nearly sworn that her eyes found his. And it was in that instant that he knew. He knew. He had truly found her.

_Rukia…_

* * *

Ichigo stayed for the next week, watching the children and learning all he could about Mizuki, his Rukia reborn. She had been orphaned in infancy and eventually found her place within the Mouri home. Having lost his wife recently, the elder Mouri gentleman carried on her legacy by caring for five young children, all orphaned or abandoned. The children took on honest odd jobs around the town to help earn money for his tiny farm, as business for this elderly man wasn't thriving. As a collected unit of people that had all lost someone dear, they were getting by relatively well and contented.

Mizuki, in her role, didn't play as the others did. She was a serious child and a bit of a loner. Ichigo could not determine if it was in her nature or a result of her having the burden of seeing spirits. Thankfully there hadn't been any hollows to appear since he began his watch but there were a few wayward souls that he performed a _konso_ on that Mizuki had also noticed. And if there was anything that stayed the same between this life and her last, she was highly perceptive. She was catching onto him quickly.

She may not have seen him with her own eyes yet but she already determined his presence. She would occasionally speak aloud to him and address him as _tamashii-san_, or Mr. Spirit. And nothing brought a wider grin to his face than to hear her call him an idiot for something just once.

Though, it still did cause a bit of injury to his heart to learn that even in this next life did she lose her family, live in poverty, occasionally sleep on an empty stomach, and have no one to speak to that understood her spiritual burden. Though, she did not let herself linger in pity or despair. She may have a new name in this life, it was still Rukia and she remained strong. Mizuki wasn't just a person made from the remnants of an old soul, she was Rukia reincarnated as pure as the mysterious afterworld could keep her.

Ichigo could have laughed aloud with joy.

* * *

"Tamashii-san, are you there today?" Mizuki had climbed up to roof of the Mouri house to watch the stars come out as night fell. Dangling her feet from the ledge, she leaned back on the shingles and placed her hands on her stomach. Ichigo hovered in a nearby tree, close but unseen. "I wonder if you are answering me and I just can't hear you. Or maybe you're not answering at all."

Letting a smile cross his face, the orange-haired man watched the child push the dark hair from her face and frown up at the sky. He hadn't answered her aloud since he arrived, for he no longer doubted her ability to hear him. He didn't want to admit it was more likely nerves that stayed his tongue.

"Why are you here, Tamashii-san? You're not like the other souls." Mizuki played with the hem of her shirt, trying not to feel foolish for speaking to nothingness. "All of the others have disappeared since you arrived. You're helping them, aren't you?"

After a moment of silence, Mizuki's voice rose a bit stronger. "You better be helping them rather than hurting them."

Ichigo had to bite his lip to prevent a small chuckle from escaping. And also to prevent him from giving into temptation and speaking to her. He repeatedly told himself that it would isolate her from her friends to delve anymore into the world of spirits. There would be too many questions she would ask and it would be much too difficult not to tell her everything. She deserved this life to be free from those burdens. He finally understood what it was that Rukia kept trying to save him from all those years ago.

"But I think you're helping them. For some strange reason, I feel like I know it." Staring up at the slowly dimming sky, Mizuki began to feel warmth of sleep come over her. "Could I at least know your name, Tamashii-san? Who you were in life?"

"I wish I could Ru… Mizuki." He whispered so lowly that his voice would not carry to her.

"Fine. Be that way." Slowly raising up from her comfortable position, Mizuki righted her clothes and began the climb back into the window. "Good night, Tamashii-san."

"Good night," he whispered back.

* * *

Ichigo decided to stay for another few days, rounding out to an even fortnight that he spent watching over Mizuki, before returning to Soul Society as needed. But he knew he'd return. Though he hid behind the veil of claiming it was to watch over her safety, he knew it was much more for his piece of mind. The knowledge that Rukia was living, _truly living_, provided him much needed comfort. He even battled with himself on when he was going to share the joyous news with others that held her dear. But he knew he couldn't be that selfish. He'd share her willingly as long as it meant she was still alive.

And she wasn't just alive. She sensed him, felt his presence. Part of her soul even remembered him. Their bonds were still there. Perhaps it was the fact that he carried part of her around with him that kept their connection through lifetimes and dimensions.

Ichigo clenched his fist tight as he recalled the last night he watched over her before ending his brief stay in her little town.

"_Tamashii-san?" Mizuki had whispered aloud. Her eyes struggled to stay open as the calming summer breeze blew the night air against her face. "Do you ever feel like you're supposed to be somewhere else?"_

_That certainly got his attention. The orange head snapped up and peered around the tee to examine the small girl closely._

"_Not that I know anywhere else. But it's like I'm in the wrong place. The feeling is like when Mouri-san is calling us in for dinner and I'm the only one not inside because I fell asleep in the trees." She yawned and rubbed one of her eyes carefully. "Like someone is looking for me." _

_Ichigo's resolve was close to breaking. Part of his mind kept screaming 'It's me!' He wanted to tell her the story of Rukia, her former self, and how important she was. How long he had been looking for her. How he missed her._

_Dropping her hand back down from her face, she scoffed and pushed herself into a sitting position. Frowning at herself she added in a strict tone, "But that's stupid, right? Who would look for me anyway? Everyone who knew me is gone." _

_He watched as she stood up, straightened her clothes as she did every night, and climb down to the window. That was the first night since he arrived that she didn't say good night to him. He would have allowed himself to be sad if it wasn't for the hopeful look she cast out of the window once she was safely inside. Her eyes told him everything he needed to know._

'_Come find me.'_

Yes, he would be back. He would be her guardian angel just as she was to him so long ago.

But first, he needed to go gloat that he wasn't crazy. Because he found her.


	3. To Be Missed

**To Be Missed**

* * *

Ichigo couldn't hold back the grin if he tried. His sake cup sat, forgotten, on the low table in front of him as he enjoyed the shock and gaping mouths of his friends and comrades around him. Crossing his arms over his chest, he didn't bother with pretense. Yes, Kurosaki Ichigo was gloating.

His spirits hadn't been this high in so many years. Immediately after losing Rukia, he was angry, at himself, at her, at everyone that didn't stop her, at the world. Then came the depression. That period was just as intense and guilt-ridden as it had been when he lost his mother. But at least his mother knew how much she meant to him. Ichigo had mere seconds of staring into the beautiful eyes of the woman he fell in love with after his confession before she was ripped from him.

So it was a foreign but nostalgic sensation to have his mouth stretch into the shape of a knowing, triumphant smile. Short of getting Rukia handed back to him just as he last saw her, hearing her whispering those words to him and getting to keep her, he couldn't be happier. Her soul lived on and her spirit was unfiltered by time and transition. The entire two weeks he spent watching over little Mizuki re-opened parts of his heart that he had lost touch with. Having the familiar spiritual pressure near him caused pangs of remembrance within his own. He was nearly whole again and it felt wonderful.

"You really found her?" Ukitake asked in hope and awe. He had almost declined the invitation for dinner due to fatigue from a long week of training, paperwork, and missions. But Ichigo had insisted and with good reason. Most of those who were closest to his last lieutenant were all stunned into silence around the table, wanting nothing more than to believe. "And she's really… _herself_?"

"How can you be sure that it's really her? After all, it's not like the kid's name was Kuchiki Rukia!" The red-haired childhood friend of the long-missing woman complained, interrupting Ichigo before he could even begin. He had taken her passing almost as bad as Ichigo had and his years of frustration wouldn't let him give in easily to hope.

"Don't be obtuse, Renji. I _know_, ok? My detector-!"

Slamming his palm onto the table, Renji glared across it at the newest captain. "Your detector?! It's a piece of shit designed by an insane man for entertainment. Rukia is _gone_!" And with that Renji stormed out of the room in an emotional huff. No one attempted to follow him.

It did not stop Ichigo from glaring at the door Renji left through. He knew why the other man was giving in to anger. It was easier than handling hope.

Still, he didn't have to be a jerk.

"Yare, yare," Shunshui began, pouring more sake into all of the cups on the table, Ukitake trying in vain to waive him away from his own cup. "Ichigo-kun, this is the best news we've heard in years. But I must ask… What do you plan to do now?"

"What do you mean?" Ichigo asked offhandedly, still distracted by Renji's abrupt exit.

"What I mean is, now that you have the satisfaction of knowing her soul has successfully re-entered the natural reincarnation cycle, what more do you expect to happen?" The captain sipped his sake, carefully watching the younger man as he digested the question.

Orange eyebrows furrowed and he glanced between Shunshui and Jushiro, two of the original four he had invited to what was supposed to be a cheerful meal. "What the hell do you mean by that? I'll make sure to protect her soul! And when the time comes, I'll be the one to perform the konso! And then I'll bring Rukia back!"

"It's not quite that simple, Ichigo-kun," Jushiro sighed, looking into the reflection the sake held. "Just because you still feel the connection doesn't mean it'll bring her back."

Ichigo felt his muscles stiffen and his heart pound in his chest. It didn't matter how true that may be. He wasn't giving up hope, not after so long and how much he had searched. Not with how much Ru… Mizuki's soul called out to him. He was going to be there to answer back. After all, together they have proven so many times in the past that rules are meant to be broken and fate can be changed. He was not giving up hope for the world.

* * *

"_Tamashii-san?" Mizuki whispered, her forehead leaning on the cool glass pane of her small window. She could almost feel the rain drops hit her skin through the glass. She didn't like the rain but it wouldn't stop. "I hope you're not stuck out in the rain."_

_Ichigo hid in a warm, dark corner of the attic that Mizuki resided in. He could have easily stayed out in the rain and merely controlled his spiritual density to allow the rain to pass right through him. But he wanted to hear all of the whisperings of the child near him. Plus, she had a point. He still wouldn't want to be out in the rain._

"_The rain makes me sad." She continued, keeping her forehead on the same spot of glass, her eyes closed to the rest of the world as she whispered her innermost feelings. _

Me too_, Ichigo silently agreed._

* * *

"Well, we'll see, I guess." Ichigo huffed, finishing off his sake and wishing two of his mentors a restful night. In his younger days, he would have raged or argued until he was blue in the face. Being older, he learned to pick his battles and contain his emotions. But it was still there under the surface.

Stepping out in the cool night air of Seireitei, he took a moment to steel himself. He was tired of wallowing in guilt, in despair, in loneliness. With a person to protect and a goal to reach, he felt more like his old self. Who cared what the odds were. He wasn't holding on because he thought he might be right. He was holding on because he had to be right. His heart would accept no less.

Besides, he needed to focus and letting his frustration get the better of him would do no good. There was on more stop he had to make before he could retire to bed himself.

* * *

"_Where the hell is she?" Ichigo mumbled to himself as he carefully stepped through the woods alongside the path from Mouri's house to town. He had taken a nap in a nearby temple while Mizuki had completed her day's task of measuring out sacks of rice to deliver. He figured he'd escort her and the kids back to the house when they were done, seeing as how he couldn't do anything for them during the day. _

_But now he couldn't find the little sneak anywhere! The other kids had all gone inside to bug the old man for dinner and mentioned that Mizuki was "dawdling". Everyone seemed pretty unconcerned about her behavior but Ichigo was worried that the time he chose to take his eyes off her that something happened. It always seemed to work that way for him. He had to swallow down the familiar panic that was bubbling in his stomach._

"_Ok, I just walked the entire length of this damn dirt road. Where the hell…!" Ichigo turned in a few circles, waiting to hear a sound or see some movement to give the child away. "This is ridiculous." He closed his eyes and concentrated, his fists tightly squeezed at his sides. Mizuki was close. The cool, smooth feeling of Rukia's reiastu wasn't far but it was damn hard to pinpoint when it was emitting from a young, living soul and not that of a shinigami. And all his damn detector would tell him was it was within a radius size that wasn't helping him!_

_Well, if it were Rukia, _his_ Rukia, she'd either purposefully be hiding for her own personal amusement or she would be distracted by something else. And if his Rukia were in the woods on a quiet evening…_

"_Ok, let's try a bit higher." Ichigo took a few steps upward into the air as if walking up stairs, creating pressure underneath his feet for levitation. He definitely enjoyed this aspect of the living world as a shinigami. In Soul Society, the entire atmosphere was reishii and it would be impossible to float or fly. It had almost the entire same limitations as the human world did for the living. Though shunpo was still quite useful and it worked everywhere._

_Walking through the branches of the trees, he squinted his eyes as he scanned behind leaves for movement. He would have laughed at himself for thinking squinting would help him sense her spiritual pressure. He would also laugh at himself for acting like a terrified older brother to the reincarnated soul of the woman he… Ichigo was actually quite thankful to stop that thought short as he finally found what he had been searching for._

Well, what do we have here?_ A corner of his mouth turned up against his will as he found the small girl stretched out on a tree branch, her back leaning against the trunk as she lightly napped. He could even swear to himself that she kind of looked like his Rukia too. True, she was much younger and she wore her hair differently. But still, she looked so much like her that he thought there was a chance that maybe… maybe she'd remember him. _

_Before he let his sentimentality get the best of him, he plucked a few leaves from the branch above her and dropped them onto her peaceful face. While she stirred and made unappreciative noises in the back of her throat, he shunpo-ed himself just far enough away and behind a tree._

"_What…?" Mizuki brushed the leaves from her face and clothes before rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Glancing down at the handful of leaves floating down from her perch she scanned the area around her. "Tamashii-san, was that you?" She straightened out her clothes and began climbing back down, grumbling her complaints the whole way. "I didn't think spirits would be pranksters. Seriously, how old are you? Didn't you see I was sleeping? Great. Just great. The spirit who chose to stalk me has no manners."_

_Mizuki made it back for dinner that night with Ichigo as her secret bodyguard. _

* * *

Ichigo couldn't help but take everyone's hesitant reaction a bit personally. Despite the fact that Rukia's soul may never remember being Rukia to begin with, didn't it matter that she survived and is getting another chance at life? Maybe this life will even be happier. And maybe she'll remember one day that in a past life, she meant the world to him. After all, he still carried a piece of her. Maybe that could bridge the gap.

Why didn't Renji see it that way?

Sighing, his mind took him back many decades, to memories that still left him sore. Dealing with Rukia being gone had been hard on Ichigo. After so many years of mourning, finally Urahara gave him a means to move on: a goal. Since then, almost a mortal lifetime ago, he had held up fine in public and even managed alone well enough. He had to, for Rukia.

Kuchiki-taicho though? Well, Rukia's older brother was a slightly different story. Though he maintained his typical stoic, serious demeanor and continued with his duties as normal, those close to him could see it easily. The captain of the 6th division had his heart broken again. He didn't hold it against her for what she chose, in fact he honored her. But it was too much for his lonely heart to bear to continue losing family. The two women who melted his heart both lost to him.

He had not joined the group to hear his news. Ichigo figured that the man knew it was about his sister and couldn't bring himself to attend. But he was going to deliver the information to him personally. After all, a brother needs to know that his sister was all right, even one like him. Especially one like him.

"Kuchiki-sama will see you now," a servant bowed to him and motioned to a room down the hall. Another servant had just placed a new tea and cups plate on the low table, bowed to the men, and politely left the room. As the screen softly closed on the room, Ichigo studied the man across from him. Once an enemy, then an ally, now a close associate. Ichigo would actually consider him a friend.

"Kurosaki-taicho. I'm glad to see you are well after your trip to the Living World." Byakuya nodded as he lifted his tea cup to his mouth, sipping delicately. Ichigo figured he was keeping up polite protocol for small talk rather getting straight to the point. But he couldn't help but wonder if the older man had any curiosity at all.

"Yeah, it was a successful trip." Placing a hand on his own tea cup, he stared into the steaming liquid for a quiet moment. "Say, Byakuya… I know you can probably guess what I'm here about."

"I don't guess, Kurosaki-taicho. I can infer, deduce, or simply know. But I do not guess." Placing his cup back down on the table between them, he made eye contact, both intense and weary. "It concerns… my late younger sister, doesn't it?"

Ichigo nodded and a corner of his lips curved into a small smile. "She's been reincarnated, Byakuya. I found her. She has very strong spiritual abilities, even as a mortal and…" He stopped when Byakuya got up from his spot at the table and stepped over to a different interior doorway, opening the screen.

"Come, Kurosaki-taicho. There is something I want you to see."

Following the other captain down a small corridor and through inner-rooms of the Kuchiki estate, Ichigo assumed they had to be heading to the center of the vast building. He recalled Rukia's old room not being far from the center, her room opening up to a courtyard garden in the middle of the home, blocked off from sight to anyone roaming outside the Kuchiki property. It was a small place of peace for her. He found himself wondering if her older brother kept everything of hers the same, if that was where he was being taken.

Byakuya opened up the sliding screen of a different room, one that did not open to the courtyard. "Enter," he nearly whispered into the darkened space.

Stepping behind him, Ichigo watched silently as he slid open a cover to a shelving system that was hidden in shadows. Byakuya lit a few candles by match and brought the ancient family altar into view. There were the traditional family stones, standing as miniature temples that bore the names and titles of ancestors. There were small flowers in golden pots decorated with cranes and sakura blossoms. There were intricate details of gold and jade around the support beams that displayed the Kuchiki name and a few tiny frames of faces, most painted rather than photographs, placed on the ornate shelving, all around the center incense burner.

Stunned into silence, being allowed to bear witness to the 6th Division's visit to the shrine, he stood rigidly in the doorway to the small room. The head of the noble clan lit the incense and whispered a soft meditation.

"Kurosaki-taicho, please step forward."

Obeying, he stepped forward and bowed a moment in respect to the altar before lifting his head. Ichigo's eyes quickly scanned the shrine before his eyes landed on one of the names. "Is that…?" he could barely get the words past his lips.

"My late wife and sister's names are placed here, alongside the rest of the Kuchiki nobility. This is what I have left of my family." Byakuya kept his eyes on the names of his loved ones. Ichigo could only guess at what he was feeling. Having lost a mother and then the one who held his heart was difficult for him. But Ichigo had his family still. Karin was a seated shinigami in the 7th Division, his father held some kind of honorary captain position he didn't quite understand, and Yuzu didn't have quite enough reiastu to join the ranks but aided with the 4th Division's work. They all lived together on the Shiba estate that was restored following the last Blood War.

But this man next to him had no one left. And he was not one to allow himself the freedom to express his affection for them. Having no words that he could possibly say, Ichigo just swallowed.

"Despite the limitations I know exist… If there is any action that could restore my family to me, then I ask that you do it. If there is anyone that could bring… Rukia," Byakuya's voice hesitated just a moment on her name, Ichigo feeling a knot in his gut at the most emotional he had ever seen this man. "Back home, it is you Kurosaki Ichigo. I would be most grateful."

The head of the Kuchiki family never made eye contact as made his request, his sight stayed upon his family's history before him. But Ichigo nodded one time, firmly and with determination.

"I plan on it."

* * *

"_Mizuki, my child, why aren't you playing with the others?" Mouri asked as he slowly lowered himself down to the steps to sit, his joints popping at the movement. _

"_Because I don't belong here, Mouri-san." She answered with such seriousness that the older man's eyebrows shot up in surprise and amusement._

"_Oh, is that so? Then where do you belong, Mizuki?" He watched as she continued to color in her sketchbook. There was a cartoon-like image of herself surrounded by colorful objects that he could not discern and she was standing beside something shapeless, her hand joined with it. _

"_I don't know yet. But I know I'll be there soon. Tamashii-san is going to come for me."_

"_Oh," was all he could respond with, unable to understand what she was talking about and wondering if he should be seeking therapy for the child who was making so little sense to him. At what point does a child stop being creative and become in need of mental or emotional intervention? He didn't know. It made him wonder what his wife would have done. _

"_Don't worry, Mouri-san. It's beautiful there too. See?" She smiled and lifted her masterpiece closer to the man._

_Nodding at the child, he allowed himself to relax. She seemed happy enough to him and her drawing did not indicate any depression or darkness. "Don't be in too much of a hurry to leave, Mizuki. We would miss you."_

"_I know, Mouri-san." She smiled brightly at him at his kind words, placing her drawing back into her lap and returning her crayons back into their box. "But I feel that I'm missed somewhere else too."_

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I didn't realize that this would become its own mini-chapter story... But I can't help but write more! I even started planning the next chapter! Well, thanks for continuing to read and please review to let me know what you think. I'm even open to suggestions for other one-shots or what you'd like to see in this mini-series or whatever! Feedback is fuel to my writing.


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